


Hansencest Advent Calendar Contributions

by elsewherewolf



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, advent calendar fics, all the hansencest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsewherewolf/pseuds/elsewherewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the Hansencesty things I've written for the Advent Calendar, gathered up. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistletoe - Herc/Chuck

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on the Hansencest Advent Calendar over on tumblr.

 

Tendo greets them at the door with a couple of plastic cups and a slightly manic grin. It’s the first Christmas party the Shatterdome’s seen, and Herc doesn’t care that champagne flutes are beyond their budget, or that the decorations are just endless strands of twinkling lights adorning anything and everything. And mistletoe. A whole fuckton of mistletoe. He opens his mouth to ask Tendo where in Hong Kong he even  _found_  so much mistletoe, but Chuck’s already heading for the food table and Herc can’t do anything but follow because… well, hell, because he can’t stand not being close to his boy.

Something to do with almost losing him once, and now Herc won’t let Chuck out of his sight and he can tell his son’s amused by it but he doesn’t give a damn. He catches up, and Chuck presses discreetly into his side for a second, before turning to pile more food onto his plate.

"Tendo throws a good party, eh?"

"I don’t envy whoever’s on clean-up for this thing."

"Dad… it’s a  _party._  Have fun, worry about the mess tomorrow okay? Maybe if everyone’s drunk enough, we can get away with a kiss under the mistletoe.”

Herc feels his face heat up, and looks around to make sure nobody’s listening. Christ, the things this boy does to him these days.

"Relax," Chuck says, pushing a sausage roll into his mouth. Nods towards a distant corner. "C’mon."

Herc doesn’t bother filling a plate; he’s pretty sure that Chuck got enough for the both of them and that’s something else that’s been happening more and more lately. The things they both do without even thinking about it. After-effects of so many years drifting together, he supposes. He doesn’t mind either that they wind up near Striker’s old bay, shoulder to shoulder and watching the party get into full swing from a distance. It’s where Chuck prefers to be, away from the crowds and on the edge of everything. Herc doesn’t mind because he gets to be right there beside him, and lately it’s more than that, too.

People come by over the course of the night to chat, and Chuck even ventures onto the makeshift dance floor on one occasion, comes back sweaty and smiling but happier still to be beside Herc again.

Around midnight, Herc decides he can make his excuses and leave, and Chuck tells him to go on ahead, he’ll be right there but he just wants to say goodnight to a couple of people. Insists, in fact, and Herc’s too tired to argue.

When Chuck comes in, Herc’s half undressed and half asleep, but he opens his eyes and smiles, reaching for his son.

Chuck crawls onto the bed, pulling something from his pocket, and Herc squints to see what it is.

"Didn’t think they’d miss a little piece like this."

Mistletoe, and Chuck reaches over Herc’s head to drop it on the pillow before curving his fingers over Herc’s cheek. “Wouldn’t be here without you, dad.”

Herc tries to keep his eyes open, but it’s difficult when Chuck’s lips touch his jaw, three little kisses to follow the angle of it down to his chin, the scrape of Chuck’s tongue over the rough of Herc’s stubble, and he drops his hand, finding Chuck’s shoulder and pulling at his clothes and at  _him_  until he moves, settles his body over Herc’s. There are times that Herc wishes Chuck wasn’t his son, that he could have joined the couples at the party who were happily kissing in full view of everyone, but he knows it’s not important where they kiss. Chuck’s alive, and his, and this thing that they have isn’t for anyone else.

He winds his fingers into Chuck’s hair, pulls him in to crush their open mouths together and smiles at Chuck’s muffled groan, at the way his hips press in, a little desperate.

It doesn’t matter that the mistletoe gets crushed, somewhere between the seventh kiss and Chuck arching up against Herc, crying out quietly at the last hard thrust that pulls him over the edge. It doesn’t matter at all.


	2. A Matter Of Timing - Herc/Scott/Chuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc/Scott, Herc/Scott/Chuck - Sometimes, it's just not the right time.

**PROLOGUE**

"I’m sorry, I had to do it."

"No, Herc, you really didn’t. Could’ve told them anything, but… fuck, it doesn’t matter." Scott pulled open another drawer, hurt and anger the only things keeping him moving.

"You need help packing?"

He stared at Herc for a second, then shoved past to get to his kitbag, stuffed another armful of shirts inside.

"I think this is for the best. Tell Chuck I said bye."

"Easier than saying it yourself is it?"

Scott paused, something about Herc’s words just hitting him in the gut, hard. It was why he was in this position now, wasn’t it? It was just easier to let the drift do the talking for him.

"What exactly did you tell them?" he asked, in a small voice.

Herc scratched at the back of his neck, looked at something on the wall beyond Scott’s head. “I don’t think it’s possible for us to drift together any more. They don’t need to know everything, Scott. You’re still my brother, and I promised to always look out for you. Didn’t I?”

Scott could feel his strength failing him, knew that he was about to crumple in the most embarrassing way.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Herc looked lost, just for a moment, and he shook his head. “Of course not. But it doesn’t matter what I want. You were a liability out there, and that’s all the PPDC care about.”

"Can’t you talk to them?" Scott asked, turning away because he couldn’t look at Herc, because he didn’t want to see any hint of reluctance. He knew what the answer would be anyway.

"You know how far that would get me. They don’t give a damn about us; we’re just pilots. The world might love us, but at the end of the day we’re expendable. Scotty… what I saw. Do you want to talk about that? Ever?"

"I’m a sick guy, Herc. Messed up. What else is there to say?"

Scott heard a snarl, found himself spun around and pinned against the wall, and Herc looked fucking deadly. “We wouldn’t be in this goddamn mess if you’d just said something - anything - before today. Christ, Scott. Surprising your co-pilot with that sort of… what part of you thought that’d be the best way to tell me?”

Herc seemed to crumble then, his fist loosening in Scott’s shirt until he was just holding on rather than holding down.

"Chuck will be a great co-pilot for you some day soon," Scott said, working down the lump in his throat.

Herc nodded, looking like he wanted to say something else. He stepped away instead, rubbed at the back of his neck again, and Scott wanted to call him out on it, wanted just to ask the question,  _would you have me?_  Because Herc hadn’t once looked disgusted by him - only surprised, and disappointed.

"You look me up," Herc said roughly, heading towards the door. "When all of this is over, come and find me. If you feel like you can  _talk_  to me by then, I want to hear what you have to say. I love you, you know that. I know… I know you want more, but dammit Scotty. Your timing is _way_  off on this. So just- Just stay safe, for me.”

Scott nodded, blinking furiously, impatient with his own lack of control, impatient with the strained tone of Herc’s voice. “I’ll do my best,” he muttered.

 

**PART ONE**

"You told me to look you up," Scott says, scratching awkwardly at the doorframe while Herc just stands there.  
  
"Dad? Who is it?"  
  
Scott’s breath catches in his throat at the sight of Chuck, and he drops his hand to his side, not sure what to say to his nephew. Herc looks between the two of them, and quietly stands aside to let Scott in.  
  
"Uncle Scott? Is that you? Dad?"  
  
"It was supposed to be a surprise. How’re you doing, kid?"  
  
Chuck makes an indignant noise at the endearment, but the handshake is warm, it’s solid. It amazes Scott, how much the kid’s changed since the last time they saw one another. There’s the obvious, of course, and he’s heard and read about all of that, about this incredible young man who just doesn’t  _quit_ , and Herc’s always been there, right there with him, supporting him every step of the way and it’s what made Scott come all the way out here to see them.  
  
Herc finally seems to find his voice. “Chuck’s doing great. Physio’s helping, pretty soon he won’t-“  
  
"Dad, come on. Don’t bore Uncle Scott with all that."  
  
"No, you’re right. So, uh. Can I get you something to drink?"  
  
"Sure, thanks. Listen, I got a room at a place in town, don’t worry about that. It took me a while to find you, but… Here I am. Nice place, by the way."  
  
"Thanks." Herc gets a couple of beers from the fridge, and passes one to Chuck, the other to Scott.  
  
"You’re not joining us?" Scott asks, curious.  
  
"Nah, I don’t… I’m okay."  
  
There’s a look then that passes between Chuck and Herc and Scott feels like he’s missing something important, wonders if he’ll find out what it is. If they even trust him enough. They go out onto the deck, and Scott looks out over the dry grass, the stretch of sand and the clear, still water of the Pacific. It’s idyllic, and not exactly what he would have pegged Herc for, but he seems happy enough here. Though with the way he fusses over making sure Chuck’s comfortable, Scott’s not so sure the location has all that much to do with his demeanour.  
  
"So what’ve you been up to?" Herc asks, and it sounds almost apologetic and Scott wants to tell him not to worry about it, or him, but they’re both looking at him and all he can do is shrug.  
  
"Nothing as important as saving the world. Back to basics for me, mate."  
  
"Not all it’s cracked up to be anyway," Herc mutters, glancing at Chuck. "It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me."  
  
"No. No, it’s alright. I came home, moved around a bit, trying to find someplace to settle down, you know? Find myself, or whatever."  
  
"Must’ve worked. You look good, Scott."  
  
"He looks like he’s trying to figure out if you’re working up to some kind of explosion," Chuck remarks, grinning. "Dad told me about- He told me what happened."  
  
Scott feels his stomach drop, and he puts down his beer because his hands are starting to shake. He’s tried not to think too much about that night, about the look on Herc’s face when he found out what a sick bastard his brother was. But his expression right now is nothing like it was back then, and he’d said, hadn’t he?  _Look me up._  ”It was a weird time for all of us, Chuck.”  
  
"Most drift partners experienced this and put it down to a side effect of the drift. But me, I reckon it’s something that’s there, dormant, and it just takes drifting with someone to figure it out. Maybe it’s a Hansen trait."  
  
” _Chuck_ ,” Herc says, a little sharply.  
  
"He’s not an idiot, dad, he’d figure it out sooner or later."  
  
Scott looks between the two of them, trying to process what Chuck’s telling him. “You two…?”  
  
"Just for the past few months," Herc says, almost defensively but there’s a note of apology in there as well that Scott doesn’t miss. He wants to say it doesn’t matter to him, it’s okay, it makes more sense in a twisted sort of a way, but at the same time he can’t help wonder why he wasn’t good enough.  
  
"Timing’s better, now," Chuck offers. "Wouldn’t have worked if we’d still had Striker to pilot. Too distracting."  
  
 _We know all about that, don’t we Herc?_  Scott thinks, looking at him, at his profile because he’s looking anywhere but at Scott.  
  
"That why you’re all the way out here?"  
  
"Partly," Herc mutters. "And for the space. It’s a good place."  
  
"Three bedrooms," Chuck says. "One we’re using as a gym, but there’s another one spare. How long are you here for?"  
  
"I’m good, I have a room in town, it’s-"  
  
"Yeah, but… we have a room here. Right, dad?"  
  
Scott watches Herc’s face, the resignation that starts in his jaw and seeps out into his shoulders. “You should stay here, Scott. We’ll go pick your stuff up later. Save your money.”  
  
+  
  
It’s late, and Chuck’s asleep with his feet in Herc’s lap, and Scott watches Herc’s hands gently rubbing at his boy’s ankles.  
  
"He’s changed," Scott remarks, making Herc look up at him.  
  
"We all have. Scott, I’m sorry. That I couldn’t, back then, and now this? I know how this might look to you, but-"  
  
"It wasn’t the right time. Chuck had it right, we had a war to win and I could’ve picked my moment better." Scott sighs, glancing at the kid again. No, not a kid any more. "I spent a long time wondering if I was wrong, you know. If it was more like hero worship, rather than… Tried so fucking hard to get over you, Herc. Never could." He hates that his voice is betraying him so much, that he feels like leaving right now and running back to the arsehole town he’s been trying to build a life in. Hates that Chuck is so damned beautiful now, despite being a little bit broken, and that Herc kisses that boy instead of him.  
  
"It wasn’t just the war. It was too soon after Sydney, and Chuck was still young and you… You could barely even talk to me, Scott. Fucking Hansen trait that is, we find everything out in the drift and it’s not what we should base a relationship on. You do get that, don’t you?"  
  
"I thought you might wait for me."  
  
"It just happened. Chuck…" Herc sighs, lifting one leg of Chuck’s jeans, and Scott knew - hell, the whole world knew what had happened to him by now - but it still shocks him. "He needed me. All of me. We don’t have the drift any more, we’ve had to be honest. To talk. If you and I had had that same opportunity… But we’re talking now. And, Christ, I mean it. You look good, and I’ve missed you."  
  
Scott shifts in his seat, not knowing what to say to that admission. He almost wants to shake Herc and say _I needed you, back then._  ”I understand why you did what you did. I never blamed you.”  
  
Herc nods, his eyes closing as he runs his fingers absently over the ugly scars on Chuck’s left leg. “Chuck missed you, too. He thinks we should all be together.”  
  
"What?"  
  
"Ha, yeah. That’s what I said. Life’s too short to waste a single minute on regret, that’s what he told me. Smart kid."  
  
"Herc, what are you saying?"  
  
"I heard you were sniffing around, looking for us. Nobody else would have been given this address, do you realize that?"  
  
Scott’s embarrassment rapidly gives way to surprise, and Herc just smiles at him.   
  
"Boy’s been driving me nuts, waiting for you to show up. He knew you wouldn’t judge this, and I trust in you not to. Because of what you asked me for back then, and what I’m offering you now. Sorry, by the way. If I was… if it was strange, earlier. I thought I’d had long enough to prepare. You still surprised me, Scotty, even when I knew you were coming."  
  
"I still don’t-"  
  
"Stay with us," Herc says, his voice getting rough. "Just stay."  
  
"Is that really what you want? Both of you?"  
  
"Christ, have you not been listening?"  
  
Scott dips his head, looking along the couch at Chuck’s relaxed features.  
  
"I told him. I wished I’d at least given you a chance back then, but it was difficult and I know you get that. The PPDC would never have let us continue working together, not the way-"  
  
"You were right," Scott interrupts. "I should’ve spoken to you first. I knew it’d all come out in the drift, that’s why I tried so hard to distract myself with… Well, you know."  
  
"It was intense, that last time," Herc says with a small smile.  
  
"Don’t have to worry about some blokes in suits any more."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Scott sighs, wondering just what he’s walked into now. That Herc had been waiting for him to show up only makes it weirder, and Chuck in on it all too?  
  
"How do we do this?"  
  
"Get some sleep first," Herc says. "Tomorrow morning… we’ll see. But right now, I need to get this boy to bed." He gets up, lifting Chuck off the couch. There are some sleepy mumbles of protest which he ignores, and Scott returns the goodnight as he gets up to go to his own room.  
  
+  
  
Scott doesn’t know what time it is, only that it’s early. He can hear muffled laughter from the room across the hall, and it twists something inside him. He listens, hears the sounds get softer, until there’s a low moan and he gets up quickly, trying to think of anything other than what’s likely going on just feet away. He  _tries_ , he really does try to go straight past their room and on into the bathroom, but he can’t  _help_ himself, has to push open the door, has to take a look.  
  
Chuck gives him a lazy glance, his fingers stroking through Herc’s hair, and Scott watches Herc licking the come from Chuck’s skin, feels his cheeks get hot. He turns to go, but Chuck says his name and Herc looks back, his eyes dark and his lips bright and just fucking  _smiles._  
  
"Sorry if we woke you…"  
  
"I don’t- You didn’t. It’s okay."  
  
Chuck pushes at Herc’s shoulder. “Dad, go on.”  
  
Something about the way Chuck says that, says  _dad_  makes Scott shiver, goes straight to his belly, warm and delicious and yeah, Scott always knew he was a little bit fucked, but now? Maybe they’re both right, maybe they’d all have turned out normal if they’d never drifted together. Not that Scott has any idea what normal looks like. And with the way Herc’s looking at him right now, he’s pretty sure he’d be perfectly content never finding out, either.  
  
"Last chance to back out," Herc says, curling his hand over Scott’s hip. Scott swallows, peeking over Herc’s shoulder to where Chuck’s rearranging the sheets to cover himself up a little bit. He wants to say  _don’t_ , but he’s still too uncertain of everything, even now. Like shouldn’t he feel differently about Herc fucking his own son, isn’t that a whole different shade of wrong that should-  
  
Herc’s lips brush his ear, and he loses his train of thought. Leans into his brother, sighing. How long has he waited for this? And he gets his nephew as well? Shit, he should be thanking all the lucky stars that they didn’t just tell him to get lost.  
  
"You’re home now. Where you belong," Herc murmurs, and his breath smells like sex and when he presses his mouth against Scott’s it’s almost too much. Scott opens up right away, wrapping his arms and hands into firm muscle, tasting Chuck off Herc’s tongue, chasing the taste that’s uniquely Herc’s at the same time. It’s all he’s wanted for too many years, and it’s better than he’d ever been able to imagine it.  
  
Herc’s chuckling when he finally pulls back, but Scott’s too turned on to be embarrassed by the needy way he tries to follow.  
  
"Thank Chuck for this. I wasn’t so sure it’d even work."  
  
 _It still might not,_  Scott thinks, but he doesn’t say anything. It felt good to him, it felt right, there’s no need to ruin it with being practical.  
  
"Wow, you’re just like him."  
  
Scott turns his head, still a little dazed, hears Herc ask Chuck what that’s supposed to mean.  
  
"Overthinking. I can see it from here. You know why people end up together? Because they can stand to be around one another for long periods of time. Because when the other person isn’t there, it feels like there’s a hole where they should be. And-"  
  
” _Don’t_  say it,” Herc warns.  
  
"Dad wants to fill your hole," Chuck says in a rush, before Herc pounces on him, pinning him down.  
  
"Funny little twerp, aren’t you?"  
  
Chuck calms his laughter, looking at his dad like Herc’s the best goddamn thing in the universe. “Mm. I was hoping Uncle Scott would come and shut me up, if he’s done processing?”  
  
Scott shakes his head, moving to sit on the side of the bed. “I’m still trying to figure out how this happened.”  
  
"First time we slept together," Chuck says, smiling at Scott while Herc kisses his shoulder. "Dad said it was what you wanted from him, and he wished he’d been able to say yes back then. I told him to let you find us. We should be together, you belong here."  
  
"How can you be so sure, kid?"  
  
"Because I drifted with my dad, I know everything he feels for you. And I know that the last twenty years have taken enough of our family. Any more of us go, we go together."  
  
"I’m not planning on dying any time soon," Herc says, gruffly.   
  
"Me either, I’m just… last time was too close." Chuck closes his eyes and Scott reaches for him, presses his palm to Chuck’s cheek.  
  
"I know your father’s probably told you this a million times already, but nothing about that," Scott glances down to where Chuck’s legs are still covered by the sheets, "makes you any less of a man."  
  
"Better believe it," Herc mutters, and Scott smiles when Chuck bats at his head.  
  
"I do most of the time," Chuck says. "Something about having your legs half ripped off… Changes your perspective on things, I guess."  
  
"Let me see. Properly."  
  
"You’re gonna have to kiss me first, Uncle Scott."   
  
Scott grins, glances at Herc who just gives him a slight nod and eases off Chuck to give Scott more room. In the end, it’s Chuck who does most of the kissing. Scott’s too overwhelmed to do much more than hold on and let him in and when he feels Herc’s hand on his back he just about loses it. It’s exactly what they said to him; he’s come home.  
  
"Hey," Chuck murmurs, easing back. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I just… Not sure what I thought would happen when I came out here, but-"  
  
"Not this?" Herc asks, still rubbing Scott’s back.  
  
"Definitely not this," Scott agrees. "We’re all of us changed, huh?"  
  
"You can look."  
  
Scott nods, pulling at the sheets. He wants to fucking touch them both, everywhere, wants to lose himself in their skin and their smell and their sex, but he  _just_  fucking got here and there’s a need outweighing the desire. He needs to know them again, to know himself when he’s with them. He needs them to know the ways in which he’s different now as well. He’s cleaned up, he doesn’t itch under his skin for the next great high, gave up running a couple of years back and let life catch up with him again. He needs them to know how much and how long he’s ached for this, needs to fall in love. But fuck, it would be so easy to tip the scales and press his tongue into the cut of Chuck’s hip, stick his arse in the air and beg Herc to screw him. He doesn’t.  
  
The scars aren’t pretty. He wonders why they didn’t amputate, why the doctors decided it’d be better to stitch the ruins of Chuck’s legs back together instead, pin the bones back in place, why it was okay to use him as a guinea pig for this new treatment, this latest approach. Chuck’s legs aren’t pretty, but they seem to function well enough. Scott read about the gruelling regime of physio that Chuck had to endure. How long it all took for him to get to a point where, walking down the street, nobody would really be able to tell.  
  
"Jesus," he mutters, running his fingers over one of the curved, silky scars, closing his eyes as Herc digs the flat of his hand inside the loose pyjama pants Scott’s wearing and curves it to fit around his arse.  
  
"I thought I’d be able to control myself better," Herc mutters, his mouth by Scott’s ear. "Can’t help it when I see you touching my boy."  
  
"Why’d we ever split?"  
  
"Regulations," Herc says with a shrug. "Don’t ask me why I can handle it now when I couldn’t back then."  
  
"I know the answer to that one anyway," Scott points out, stroking Chuck’s leg again. "Dammit, Herc. We’ve got a few lost years to make up for."  
  
"Yeah," Herc agrees, withdrawing his hand. "Go get showered, have a crafty if you need one. And… if you want a hand, just shout."  
  
"Now I know exactly why," Scott grumbles, bending to kiss Chuck’s mouth quick and soft. "Your father’s a goddamn tease."

**  
****PART TWO**

**  
**Scott watches in the mirror as Herc comes into the bathroom behind him. Leans into his brother’s firm body, letting himself be gathered in, tight. The expression on Herc’s face pinches at Scott’s heart, and all he wants is to make everything better, somehow. Wonders if he even can.  
  
"What’s wrong?"  
  
"Twice now I’ve fucked up by letting the men I love walk away from me, twice I’ve nearly lost them for good. Should’ve worked things out back then, tried harder. Then Chuck…"  
  
"He doesn’t blame you. A blind man could figure that out, Herc. He was always going to complete that mission, with or without you."  
  
Herc nods, bends to touch his lips to Scott’s shoulder. “Why did you ever want me?”  
  
Scott shivers, tilting his head back, sighs at Herc’s lips on his skin.  
  
"This. Even when I was trying to destroy myself, you were still doing your damnedest to keep me safe. And you do the same for Chuck. Everybody knows the only reason you weren’t in that connpod with him was because you were told ‘no.’ I know you’d have been there if nobody had tried to stop you, busted arm or not."  
  
Herc smiles, catching Scott’s eye in the mirror.  
  
"And because we grew up in such close quarters. I watched your body change, and I liked what I saw. Shallow, right?"  
  
Herc lifts a brow, still saying nothing and still smiling.  
  
"Used to fantasize about you in that Air Force gear… Shit, that time you came home for Christmas and you were still wearing that uniform, trying to impress mum and dad…"  
  
"It started  _that_  long ago?”  
  
"You see why the itch got so bad. Where’s Chuck?"  
  
"He’s okay, he’s with Max. Having breakfast. You want to scratch that itch some?"  
  
Scott considers Herc’s eyes, the hand on his chest and the muscles bunched in Herc’s arm around him. “I’m trying to be strong. To start from the beginning and build up to-” He swallows, hard. “Herc.”  
  
"What is it?" Herc turns him around, lays one hand along his jaw and just looks at him, intense.  
  
"I’m sorry. For everything I put you through back then. I was a shit brother-"  
  
"You weren’t."  
  
"I was. I’ll do better, I’ll  _be_  better.”  
  
"You don’t need to earn your place here, Scott. I thought I made myself pretty clear."  
  
Scott nods, feeling his resolve start to melt away, and curves his hand around Herc’s shoulder. “You know, you look better now than you did ten, twenty years ago. Age suits you…”  
  
"I’m three fucking years older than you, Scotty."  
  
Scott grins, opening his mouth when Herc bends, pulls himself up into the kiss, keeping Herc right there with tight hands and the warm press of his body. Kissing Herc is like nothing else has ever been, or will ever be. It’s deep and hot and sets his blood alight and every nerve on edge where he can feel all the places they’re touching. His brother’s hands wander easily, and Scott shivers at the trail of fingertips down his spine, the curl of Herc’s hand over his buttock, the gentle squeeze.  
  
How the hell is he supposed to take any of this slowly when Herc gets him so fucking hot with just a kiss? When all he’s wanted for so long is being offered to him on a plate?  
  
Herc’s mouth trails to Scott’s throat, and both of them groan, Scott starting to laugh when Herc hoists him up and onto the ledge beside the sink.   
  
"What?" Herc asks, amused and leaning back to look at Scott’s face.  
  
"Shit, you never even asked what I’ve been doing all this time."  
  
"You mean you didn’t spend all these years just pining for me?"  
  
” _Herc._ " Scott’s mouth falls open, and he puts his hand over his brother’s, though makes no effort to stop him.  
  
"I know. I asked around, and I know. Doesn’t change a damned thing, so just - jesus, can we get these things off?"  
  
Scott nods, lifting his arse for Herc to drag his shorts down. They don’t quite make it all the way off his feet, but it doesn’t matter because Herc’s hand is on his cock, Herc’s mouth is on his nipple, and he can’t remember the point he’d been trying to make beyond  _I’m clean. I’m clean, I promise. I love you._  
  
He strokes Herc’s hair - it’s a little thicker than it was back then and feels good between his fingers - and watches his brother reach for whatever’s closest to hand that he can use, and after a moment or two he takes pity and passes Herc some shower gel, laughing again because it’s all so fucking surreal and Chuck’s not far away, he could come in any second -   
  
 _oh, shit, Herc, that… that, with your thumb_  
  
\- and it wouldn’t be a bad thing.  
  
"You giving me a hickey down there?"  
  
Herc nips, comes back up to Scott’s mouth, his hand moving in firm strokes and Scott forgets everything inside another hot, desperate kiss, holds on tight, fingers digging bruises into Herc’s shoulders. Listens to Herc spit in his palm, to the slick sounds of the gel foaming with every fucking stroke, to his breathing become ragged, broken, and his smile’s lost, the kiss too loose because he can’t stop moaning like he never has in his life. Puts his head on Herc’s shoulder in the end and lets his brother draw colour out of his skin and blood in the shape of his mouth because he’s always belonged to Herc. Always.  
  
He clutches when he comes, and Herc holds him steady through it, doesn’t let him fall, doesn’t let go and Scott’s eyes are wet by the end, he rubs his forehead against Herc’s chest and slowly stills, just letting himself be held.  
  
"You alright?"  
  
Scott nods, clawing his way up to push his fingers into Herc’s hair again, to put his mouth over Herc’s and it’s a kiss full of air but it’s everything.  
  
 _This wasn’t what I expected to find._  
  
Herc cleans him up, careful and so slow about it that Scott’s pretty sure he’s just going to wind up with another hard-on, but then he’s in Herc’s arms and Chuck’s there, beside them both and kissing his ear and Herc rumbles something about going back to bed but Chuck says no.  
Later. Give Scott a day or two to figure it all out.  
  
Scott goes through the motions of showering and dressing in a complete daze, like all of this is just his imagination telling him what the best possible outcome of showing up on their doorstep would be. And any second he’ll wake up and find out what  _really_  happened.  
  
But Herc’s waiting for him with breakfast, and Chuck struggles up out of his seat despite Scott’s protest, just to come over to him and touch him, kiss him good morning again and whisper something about what happened in the bathroom that makes the back of Scott’s neck get hot and he pulls Chuck in that bit closer and tighter.  
  
This fucking kid of Herc’s. Who almost died so that they could have this, so that the  _world_  could have mornings like this one, just waking up to another day, to feeling safe in their own homes and knowing nothing was going to bring it all crashing down around their ears.  
  
"Thank you," Scott murmurs, nuzzling at Chuck’s jaw, smiling when Chuck doesn’t ask him what for, just takes his hand and pulls him across to the table.   
  
It’s more food than Scott’s seen in a while, and he feels fat and lazy by the time the table’s cleared again, helps Herc with the dishes and afterwards goes out into the garden with them both. They sit on the deck and talk and reminisce and Scott tells Chuck stories about his old man’s Air Force days, things Herc had forgotten about, or just forgotten to tell Chuck.   
  
By the end of the second day, just as Chuck had said, Scott’s starting to feel like this might be the place for him, after all. That he fits here, and that Herc and Chuck both made sure that he would, left a space for him from the very beginning because they knew that he’d show.  
  
So when he’s headed to his room and Herc catches his arm, jerks his head in the direction of the bedroom he shares with Chuck, Scott can’t argue.   
  
"Hey, Uncle Scott," Chuck says, grinning and reaching for him, and Scott leans to kiss him, kiss his hair.   
  
He doesn’t quite know what to do, where to start or what they want from him, but Herc’s there, taking his hand to place it on Chuck’s hip.   
  
"This is where you want to be, so enjoy it."  
  
"Anything you need," Chuck adds, threading his fingers between Scott’s.  
  
"What  _do_  you want, little brother?”  
  
"Just you two. I don’t- I…"  
  
Herc kisses his nape, coming in behind him and making him sweat almost instantly, palm on his belly while Chuck turns to take his mouth, still smiling.   
  
Maybe Chuck can’t move the way Herc can yet, but they’re a force of nature together even so and Scott’s caught up in the eye of it all, both of Chuck’s hands on his cock and Herc working him open in the most painfully,  _pleasurably_  slow way possible. He doesn’t recognize the sounds he’s making, long and low, arching into Herc’s hands, Chuck’s, not quite knowing where he wants to be but knowing he’s exactly where he needs to be. Herc’s kisses across his back, his knees either side of Chuck’s hips, one of his hands white-knuckled in the pillow, the other wrapped loose around Chuck’s cock and Herc’s  _fingers_  again, his tongue and Scott could cry that it’s taken them this long to get here. Not to the sex, not just the sex anyway, but all of it. The way Chuck’s looking at him, every time Scott manages to open his eyes. The way Herc’s helping to hold him as upright as he needs to be, supporting him with the strength Scott’s always envied.   
  
How they both keep asking how he’s doing, if it feels good, if he needs anything else. He asks Chuck to kiss him, keep kissing him when Herc kneels behind him, cock hard and thick and blunt.  
  
"You want this, Scotty?"  
  
He nods, trying to look back over his shoulder but Chuck catches hold of his head and drags him back down for another kiss. He gives Chuck’s cock a couple of strokes, then stills completely and just listens. Herc’s whispering to him that it’s fine, it’s all good, just relax.  
  
"That’s it, little brother."  
  
There’s something inherently delicious about it all for Scott. That if they knew, if the whole world knew what they were doing right now they’d scorn it. Call it a hundred different names and none of them good. Scott could give a flying fuck what they might say. When Herc calls him little brother, when he feels that thick cock sink inside him, nothing else matters.   
  
This is his family. They’re all he has left, which makes them fucking precious, and if he can stay this close to them both and know everything about them, inside and out, he’ll die happy. In some ways he wishes he’d gotten to drift with Chuck. Just once. To have that bond as well as this one.   
  
Herc drags him back and he all but howls, laughter bubbling up at the noise because Chuck’s grinning again, watching him getting slowly wrecked. Fucked, and fucked hard because it’s what he’s always itched and ached for, Herc’s hand tight around his nape, pushing him down, pressing his face into Chuck’s thigh. He rests his cheek there, closes his eyes and keens loudly because Herc is fucking relentless, nothing like he’d been in the bathroom the other day, or with Chuck when Scott had watched them. He’s  _Herc_ , and he’s no longer pussy-footing around anything. The bigger brother, the daddy, the one who did the painful things to keep them both safe and alive so that they could have all of this.  
  
Herc’s quiet when he comes, but Scott feels it. The heat of it, where it hits and the slide of it when Herc pulls out, lets go of Scott’s neck to stroke his back, tenderly.  
  
"Uncle Scott?"  
  
Chuck’s voice brings him out of his haze, and he moves his head, lazily pulls Chuck’s cock into his mouth, wraps his hand around the base of it and shudders at Herc’s hand curving between his legs to take hold of him.   
  
He’s noisier when he comes, and it doesn’t take long with Herc stroking him roughly and Chuck fucking his mouth before he does, his orgasm quick and bright, every place where either of them have touched him since this began just buzzing, and he doesn’t fight it when Herc moves to help him bring Chuck over with them. Chuck’s come hits the back of his throat and he doesn’t care, just coughs and lets go and coughs some more, swallowing and trying to breathe, collapsed across Chuck’s thigh, able to feel thick scars beneath his chest where he’s lying.  
  
"Think you broke him," he hears Chuck say, some time later.   
  
"I’ll go easier on him next time. Was just-"  
  
"I know. Dad…"  
  
"Yes, Chuck?"  
  
Scott feels himself gathered up, pulled in against Herc’s chest, feels fingertips stroking his skin and toying with his limp cock in ways that make him shiver and whine because seriously, no more. Not yet. Give him a while to get over all of that.  
  
"Is he staying for good?"  
  
 _You think I’m going to leave now?_  
  
Herc doesn’t answer, but Scott feels him shift, hears him kissing Chuck and lifts his head to join in and they let him into it without hesitation and somehow it works. It just works.  
  
And it’s all the answer that’s needed.


	3. His Hands - Herc/Chuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc/Chuck - glove kink, Christmas theme

**HIS HANDS**

**  
**

Chuck _loves_  this cottage. He loves the snow he can see falling outside the window, the low beams that they both keep walking into, and the huge fireplace in the front room. He’s sprawled naked across the collection of blankets and pillows that they dragged down here simply because of the huge fireplace, and he’s happy as a pig in shit.

He hears the door open, the rapid thudding of his dad stomping the snow from his boots, and he shivers at the brief, sudden draft that gets sucked into the room, the gust of air making the fire flare up for a moment.

"Let’s spend Christmas somewhere it snows, he says. It’ll be fun, he says. What a great idea…" Herc’s grumbling as he comes into the room, shrugging out of his heavy coat, unwrapping his scarf. Chuck watches him, makes a noise as Herc goes to pull his gloves off too.

"No. Leave ‘em on, dad."

"What?"

Chuck’s been thinking about it a lot, about his father’s hands, and the way the leather of his gloves has softened and moulded to the shape of them, and how unbelievably fucking hot it would be if they fucked and Herc was still wearing them.

"Leave the gloves on. For me."

"Come on, Chuck, I’m frozen to the bone here."

"So get down here and I’ll warm you up," Chuck says, a promise behind the words.

Herc gives in, kneeling beside him on the blankets, and cries out when Chuck pulls him down, rolling them both and straddling him in two quick moves.

"Gotcha," Chuck laughs. Herc’s outrage melts into a softer look, and he doesn’t fight too much when Chuck pins his arms down and leans in to kiss him. "Yeah," Chuck says, against his mouth, "you  _are_  bloody cold. Soon fix you right up, though.”

He pulls at his dad’s sweater, putting warm hands on the skin beneath, still kissing Herc and groaning as the hands he’d released stroke over his thighs, grab at his ass. “Fuck, I want your fingers.” He adds, “dad” because he can, because he knows it goes directly and shamefully to Herc’s cock. “Screw me with them, I want to feel this leather in me.”

Herc bucks against him, shoving his tongue hard into Chuck’s mouth and that’s  _good_ , it feels awesome and Chuck’s been craving this since they got here.

The kiss softens out, and Chuck relaxes, reaching for the slick he’s kept close at hand before Herc can even ask for it.

His dad just lifts an eyebrow, smirking. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

"Max needed a walk."  _And neither of us would have left this place if we’d started earlier._  He shifts, pulling at Herc’s fly, wanting a handful of his dad’s cock, too.

"Jesus, Chuck, what’s got into you?"

"We’re here. Alone. Nobody else around to bother us, and you… You look good, okay?" Chuck’s jaw juts out for a second, but he turns his attention back to Herc’s cock and his expression softens. "Fingers," he mutters, a reminder.

"Yeah, yeah… Not gonna do these any good," Herc complains, hissing as Chuck squeezes the slick directly onto his cock, starts stroking it in, coaxing him into full hardness. He offers his own fingers, and Chuck grins, slicking the gloves well. He crawls forward a little, wrapping his hand as far around both of their cocks as he can, and groans when Herc slides the edge of one hand down the crease of his ass, pressing in.

He can feel the leather, even past the lube. Soft and rough at the same time, the palm warm where Herc cradles his buttock, forefinger circling now and thumb digging in, pulling.

"Fuck me with ‘em, dad. Please…"

Herc’s cock pulses in Chuck’s grip, and he says it again, lower, bending to press kisses in against Herc’s throat. “Fuck me. Hard. Deep, I want it. Please, dad. Three fingers. Fuck, I’ll take four. Just do it.”

His rhythm falters when Herc presses in, and he opens his mouth over freckled, stubbly skin, breathes and breathes when Herc adds a second finger almost too soon. But it’s good, it’s what he wants, what he’s been aching for, and he yields, squeezing their cocks together.

"You okay?" Herc asks, and he answers in a rumbling whine, his skin shivering as Herc presses gently at points on his spine with his other gloved hand.

Chuck keeps stroking, but at the third finger he gives up, just rubbing his dick over Herc’s, hearing the wet sounds of the slick and feeling how hard this is making Herc, too. He shakes his head into Herc’s shoulder at the hushed offer of another, a noisy and ragged exhale escapes him when the three he’s taken press in to the second knuckle. The leather feels incredible to him - not the same as having his dad’s cock, just different - and he pushes back against Herc’s hand, shuddering hard.

"My boy," Herc murmurs, rolling his hips up into Chuck’s. "Come on, Chuck. For me."

Nodding, breaths hitching, Chuck concentrates on the fingers buried in his ass, on Herc’s hand resting at the base of his spine, on the feel of Herc’s sweater under his chest, the heat of his skin where it’s ridden up. He comes with his cheek pressed to Herc’s cheek, shivers wracking him, and can only mumble something meaningless when Herc follows a moment or two later, quieter than Chuck had been. Chuck lifts his head to watch the way Herc’s eyes close, the wrinkles in his brow deepening for just a second with the buck of his hips, and how it’s all followed with a slow, shaky exhale. Then it’s just his fingers dragged slowly free, both hands on Chuck’s skin, the whisper of leather as he strokes, comforting and holding on at the same time.

"God, dad," Chuck says, burying his face in Herc’s sweater again. "Fuck."

"Uh huh. These are ruined," Herc grumbles, lifting his hand into the firelight to look at the glove he’s still wearing.

"Maybe Santa’ll drop you off some new ones," Chuck says, snuggling in. He knows they both ought to get up and clean up, but his limbs are too heavy right now to even think of moving.

"Don’t care if he does, I’m still keeping these. Sure we can still get some good use out of them, eh?"


	4. Tags - Herc/Chuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc/Chuck - They're far away from the Shatterdome now, and have everything that matters. Pure fluff. The art that inspired this is here: http://nandeeff.tumblr.com/post/70698134586/007-submission-for-hansencest-advent-calendar

**TAGS**

 

 

They’re as far away as they can possibly get from Hong Kong and its Shatterdome, and Chuck says it shows when he leans up on his elbow and just stares at Herc.  They both wear the only reminder they still possess of that life, of how they almost lost one another, but here and in this setting it’s something to celebrate rather than dwell on.

A year and an ocean or two away from the breach and Pitfall and the  _endless_ talk show invitations, the PR gigs, the men in stupid fucking suits who wanted to shake their hands and thank them for something they’d said would never work, and it finally feels like it might just be far enough.

Chuck smiles, bends to kiss the corner of his father’s eye, his fingers tangled in the chain and tags around Herc’s neck.  ”You look…”

"Hmm?" Herc opens one eye, reaching to put his hand into Chuck’s hair.  "I look what?"

"Like my dad again.  Like you used to."

Chuck chews at his lip, watching Herc’s look soften slightly, like he’s feeling guilty all over again about the years they spent just being drift compatible, father and son. Jaeger pilots, instead of a boy and his dad.

"Light’s good in here then."

"It’s not the light."

Chuck shifts, pressing in against Herc’s side then lifting his leg over, his dick soft at Herc’s hip.  He opens his mouth around the tags that are still warm from his touch, from Herc’s skin, and sucks them in, looking up at his dad through thick lashes.

"You’ve changed as well," Herc remarks, dragging Chuck up again to kiss him around the tags.  

Chuck can’t help it, feels himself starting to get hard just from the metal and his dad’s tongue in his mouth.  Makes a soft sound, pulling back.  ”I think getting fucked day and night agrees with me.”  It’s not the subtlest of hints, but Chuck’s long learnt that subtlety doesn’t work too well on Herc.

"Huh, for me I’m pretty sure it’s the  _intense_ blow jobs my son gives me.”  Herc blushes as he says it,  _my son,_ and Chuck just grins and wants to kiss him again and tell him it doesn’t fucking matter, it never will, not to him.  Because it isn’t the sex, it isn’t even being thousands of miles away from a place that still haunts them both sometimes, it’s just the simple fact of reaching out and finding each other there, close enough to smell, to touch, to smile at, to love.  


	5. Tell Me I'm Pretty - Herc/Chuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc/Chuck - cross-dressing sort of, dresses and smut. The art that inspired this drabble *and* the following one (Silent Night) can be found here: http://hansencestadvent.tumblr.com/post/70410753129/its-day-eighteen-and-heres-a-double-dose-of-art

**Tell Me I'm Pretty**

**  
**

It’s basically the dumbest idea that Herc’s ever heard, and the only reason he’s doing it is because Chuck - weirdly - leapt at the opportunity and he’s not going to make his son do this shit alone.

Herc’s pretty sure he looks like a fucking monkey stuffed into a dress, while Chuck? Chuck looks like a fucking princess, silk clinging to every muscle and curve and -

Who painted his goddamn  _toenails_?

Chuck looks  _good_ , and Herc just looks angry. Feels angry, that this is what they’ve been reduced to after everything they’ve done. Everything they’ve been through. He’s pretty sure nobody owns him any more, nobody’s owned him for a long fucking time, which makes it even harder to understand why he’s here, camera flashing away while Chuck poses and he sulks, in a fucking  _dress_.

Good PR, they said. Just come do it with me, Chuck insisted.

Even Max gave him a judgemental sort of a stare the first time he’d refused.

It’s painless enough, he supposes, even if Chuck looks better than he does, even if the stupid heels start to kill his feet after the first thirty seconds and he’s pretty sure some of the crew are laughing at him.

The second he’s told it’s over, the heels get kicked off. Chuck follows him back to the dressing room, Max trailing along behind because since they’re big damn heroes, Max goes wherever Chuck pleases.

He’s reaching around to the zipper on his dress when Chuck catches hold of him.

"I told you if you didn’t want to be here, you could’ve said no."

"What?"

"I don’t even know what your problem is, you look hot as fuck in that."

"I feel like an ape. Chuck-"

“ _Daddy_.” Chuck murmurs it, low and sweet, the kind of tone that goes straight to Herc’s cock and completely bypasses his brain. “You look good.” He reaches back, and Herc hears the latch on the door snap down. “And there’s an advantage you haven’t thought about.”

"There are advantages to knowing I’ll be the laughing stock of the Shatterdome in a few days’ time?"

Chuck lifts an eyebrow, then turns around slowly, bracing one hand against the door and lifting his skirt with the other. His arse is bare, creases imprinted in his skin from where the dress was, tight.

"Why do you think I agreed to this?"

"Seriously? You put me through that just so I’d fuck you?"

Chuck laughs, and Herc feels his cheeks get hot and doesn’t know why.

"I put you through that so you’d fuck me in a dress. Don’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on."

And suddenly Herc understands. Mako, that dress, and Herc had told her she looked pretty, but had forgotten to compliment his own son.

"I’d fuck you anywhere, in anything." Herc spits in his palm, reaches around to take hold of Chuck’s cock, presses the shape of his own in against Chuck’s arse. "You’re beautiful, boy." The words might be at odds with the rough strokes of his hand, but he means them. "I should tell you that more often."

"Yeah," Chuck mutters, laying his other hand flat against the door. "You should."


	6. Silent Night - Herc/Chuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc/Chuck - when the nightmares end.

**SILENT NIGHT**

**  
**

Herc spent months after Pitfall waking up to a light on somewhere, looking across the room to see Chuck sitting at the desk, on the edge of his bunk, on the floor, back against the wall. Head in his hands and a haunted air about him. Herc never liked to ask, and Chuck never wanted to talk about it, he’d just look up when Herc asked him if he was okay, then look away and turn off the light.

Yesterday, things changed. Herc still isn’t sure what happened, only that Tendo had thrown an impromptu Christmas party and someone made punch and Chuck got tipsy, then drunk and Herc tried to keep an eye on him but somewhere around midnight he’d lost track of where his son was. It took him two hours to track Chuck down, and Herc had found him on the walkway overlooking the empty bay where Striker used to be. He’d sat down beside Chuck, been surprised when his son had curled into him, fingers clutching at Herc’s clothes and his arms tight.

"Tell me," Herc had said, and it was the first time he’d honestly asked.  
It was the first time Chuck answered honestly, too.

"I’m alone in the dark."

"You’ve got me, I’m not going anywhere."

"You’re too far away. Always have been." Chuck had kissed his chin, his cheek, and Herc - being who he was, son of a military man, air force career not all that far behind him - didn’t know what the fuck to do with that.

"You’ll get better," he’d said, and Chuck had punched him.

"I’m not sick!"

+

He’d stayed on the walkway for a long time after Chuck stormed away. Touched the dried blood on his lip, looked out at the empty bay, the darkness seeming to grow the longer he looked.

Chuck was in bed when Herc went back to their room, and Herc knew he’d been crying.

He sat on the edge of the mattress, laced his fingers together.

"What do you want from me?"

"Doesn’t matter."

"I’m your father, Chuck… There are certain things I can’t give-"

"Won’t, you mean. There’s nothing stopping you except fear. Nobody needs to know, so why be afraid of what they think? I want you close to me because I’m afraid, okay? And unlike you, I actually have something to be afraid of, so… just fucking leave me alone."

"No. Why didn’t you tell me before?"

Chuck sat up in his bed, looking all around the room until finally letting his gaze rest on Herc. “Hey, dad, I’m afraid of the dark. I close my eyes at night and I feel it creeping in and I’m pretty sure one day it’s just going to swallow me and I’ll be gone from here and you’ll never know how I want you. So I get up and I turn on a light and I watch you because it’s as close as I’ve been able to get. We drifted, I remember seeing myself through your eyes and maybe that’s what made me kid myself that you wouldn’t be such an arse about this.”

"I wasn’t-"

"You don’t even realize how scared I was to kiss you. You’re lucky I didn’t puke all over you."

"But why?"

"Because you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel safe. Because just look at yourself some day. Honestly, stand in front of a mirror and look at yourself. You’re everything that isn’t being under the ocean, blind and crippled. I know it’s not right, you don’t have to tell me I’m fucked in the head…"

"Don’t let anyone ever tell you that, son. You’re perfect."

Chuck had snorted, drawing his knees up beneath his chin. “I’ll wait for you to remember what you saw in me before. When you used to watch me shower… When you jerked off and I was sleeping over here.”

"You… Saw that."

"You’re ashamed of it and I don’t know why. We get one life and for us it’s probably going to be shorter than we’d like, so can’t we just say fuck it and-"

Herc still doesn’t know what Chuck had been about to say. He’d kissed his son - he’d _kissed_  his  _son_  - and the world hadn’t ended. Stripped him naked, and the Shatterdome hadn’t come crashing down around their ears. Made love to him, and lightning hadn’t struck him dead.

Slept with him, and the night had simply been silent and bright, nothing to be afraid of. Things had changed. Herc knew they had when he woke to darkness, Chuck still quietly snoring beside him.


End file.
